


love nest

by ere_the_sun_rises (orphan_account)



Series: the solcrum-stone-aaronson love nest [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Andromeda has a huge ladyboner for original choices, F/M, Homecoming, M/M, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, Original Character(s), Pillow Talk, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M, no straight people here nope nope try the next house, this is a pokemon fic but they only talk about their pokemon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:59:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1959363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ere_the_sun_rises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andromeda’s feeling frisky, Steven is an enabler, and Riley is just glad to have them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love nest

She’s aggressive when she straddles him and seizes fistfuls of his shirt, half pulling him closer and half coming down to meet him in a bruising kiss. It’s true that she’s been away for a few days; endorsing gyms and making appearances. Being league champion keeps you busy. Still, that’s…only a few days. Of course, Riley could survive alone with his Pokémon for years. He’s done it before. He doesn’t thrive on human contact, doesn’t live off of it like she does.

“How was the trip?” He asks her, when she finally disengages to let him breathe. “I saw you on the TV.”

“Please tell me you at least left the house while I was gone,” she cracks wise, before lowering her head and sucking on the skin of his neck. His breath catches, making it a little hard to formulate his answer. She comes up again, gives him a look and shakes her head, incredulous. “You probably never even stepped outside. And Steven let you, didn’t he? Guardians, he is such an enabler.” She runs a hand over the tender flesh she’s just bruised, watching the purple darken against the pale expanse of his skin. “You’re going to end up with a vitamin D deficiency, one of these days. You know that?” She speaks, fondly, fingers curling around the side of his neck and petting lightly.

“You were the one who decided to get involved with two introverts, dear,” he reminds her, kissing her fingertips.

She raises an eyebrow. “At least Steven goes outside.”

“Say, what is it with you and steel-type specialists?” He asks her, eyes narrowing, mouth quirking on a curious smile. A sudden subject change, but she’s gotten used to how his mind works.

“Steel-type specialists?” She repeats, raising an eyebrow. “I highly doubt that’s it; plenty of people call themselves steel-type specialists.” She rolls her eyes, curling into his side. “It’s just a parade of Steelix after Magneton, it’s so unoriginal.”

“Wait a minute,” he says, “I’ve heard this rant before.” He pauses, for dramatic effect, then imitates her: “‘Everyone and their mother with a Dragonite and a Gyarados calls themselves a dragon tamer; and a Haxorus and a Druddigon are nothing special either. Gyarados isn’t even a dragon type! Try getting a Deino to listen to you, much less getting it to a Hydreigon. And look out, here’s my Altaria, Salamence, and Flygon!’” She slaps him on the arm, even though she’s laughing.

“But it’s true! Nearly everyone who calls themselves a specialist has no originality. If I had a nickel for every time I met a so-called ghost trainer with something that used to be or still is a Gastly; or a psychic with a Kadabra-- you know?” She climbs up overtop of him again, stroking a lock of hair out of his face. “But you, and Steven…there’s a breath of fresh air. Your lineup has some thought to it, it’s not made of cliches.” She leans closer, her eyes glinting with intent. “I can depose of someone like Jasmine or Byron with my eyes closed. You boys were a challenge.” She kisses him, and the heat makes him dizzy. He would not be one-upped.

“Good to know we made you work for it,” he deadpans, when she pulls away, curling his hands around her waist.

“Training a Metagross is no mean feat,” she concedes. “Just because I happened to train a Houndoom, well…” He grunts at her, and she sticks her tongue out in response. “Hey, don’t be a sore loser.” She shifts until her pelvis is pressed to his, murmurs, “Besides. I think we all won in the end,” before she captures his mouth again. They make out for he’s not sure how long; until they’re breathing harshly into each other’s lungs, grinding and hooking their tongues together-- a soft sound at the door makes her halt, and she sits up to regard Steven, watching them with dark eyes. His tongue passes over his lips at the sight of them, half-fucked already, kiss-bruised, flushed and horny.

“We were just talking about your ingenuity,” she says, and Riley wonders how she has the wits for smart remarks at the moment. All the blood in his brain seemed to have fled south a few minutes ago. The women were the strong ones, truly.

“It looked like an engaging conversation.” And him too? Riley could see where his erection was straining through those stupid tight black pants, damn him. “Mind if I join you?” Andromeda stretches out a hand to him and he crosses the room in a few long strides, the bed dips with his weight-- someone divests him of his shirt, Steven’s sweater comes off and he pulls off her tank top; his mouth going dry as his hands cup her big, beautiful breasts and play with small, dainty nipples. “Beings…” he mutters, and the rest of the clothes come off, they all fall into a tangle of limbs, someone gets their fingers deep into him and presses hard on that blessed spot until he’s seeing stars; and then she’s hot and wet around him and Steven is at his back, pushing into him deep, splitting him in half, and they all rock together until they find their satiation, somewhere between the salt slick of sweat and the soft cries filling the room. It’s a few minutes later before he regains his thoughts. All his muscles feel loose and floppy; he won’t be getting up anytime soon. He’s always reminded of how glad he is that they sprung for the king-sized bed when they’re all in together-- Andromeda, at present, is curled up against his front, looking smug and well-fucked, which is…a good look on her. Most things are. Steven is still behind him, nuzzling at the nape of his neck. He has one arm slung over Riley, so he can rub at Andromeda’s hip, if the inclination so strikes him.

“I hate leaving,” she murmurs, shifting so that she’s on her back, and can turn her head to look at them both with a smile. “But the coming home is pretty nice.”

“Makes you appreciate it, hmm?” Steven replies. The stars are out in the sky, Riley gazes at them through the window.

“Of course, homebody here won’t even grab the mail,” she turns and grins at Riley, teasing him. He doesn’t rise to the bait, instead smiles graciously as they chuckle. They are really very lucky that they’d just worn him out like they had. “Okay, honest-to-god, if we had a fourth…who would you pick?” “What?” Riley splutters.

“Hey, you can’t slander the hypothetical third game.” She rebukes him. “Not when that’s how you got invited to the Stone-Solcrum love nest.”

“Although; wouldn’t it be the hypothetical fourths game, now?” Steven questions, behind him.

Riley grumps at him. “You really are an enabler.”

Steven kisses him on the shoulder. “Hush. Our girlfriend wants to go first.”

She flips him the bird. “Fine.” She grins at them, then. “Professor Sycamore, from Kalos. He’s pretty smokin’, for an older fellow.”

“Sycamore?” Riley frowns, but Steven raises an eyebrow, and considers it. “Maybe,” Steven concedes. “But only because the idea of his experience intrigues me.”

Riley shrugs. “Not my type.”

Andromeda looks at Steven. “Well, then. Your turn. Who’s your hypothetical fourth, darling?” She braces her chin on her hands, eagerly awaiting his response. He thought for a while, tapping his fingers along the bedspread before voicing his thoughts. “Karen. Indigo Plateau Elite Four.” Andromeda’s brows furrow, and she says nothing. “You’re thinking about it,” Steven notes.

“Shut up,” she replies, grinning. “What do you think, Riley?” Riley shrugs. “I don’t know. She seems so…aloof. I’m not sure I like that.”

“Well, somebody’s picky.” She rolls so she faces him. “Tell us, then. Who’s your hypothetical fourth?”

He thinks, for a long moment. “I don’t know,” he says, finally. “I think all of my fantasies played out when I ended up with you two.”

She stares at him, eyes narrowed. “If we hadn’t just had sex, I would accuse you of trying to get into my pants.” But she cuddles into him nonetheless, and Steven wraps an arm around his chest. “But there’s nothing really to it, I guess. That’s why it’s the hypothetical fourths game.”

“Last time we played the hypothetical add-whatever-number game, we ended up with Riley,” Steven remarks, reaching back to turn off the lamp.

“So we can make a booty call to Kalos tomorrow, right?” She says, brightly, and the other two snicker as they all settle in together, fingers clasped and bodies pressed close. “I really do think he has a point, though,” she murmurs, into the darkness. “We all ended up lucky. The Solcrum-Stone-Aaronson love nest. Hmm.” She doesn’t make much sense, which means that she’s nearing sleep. Steven’s hand finds his in the dark, and Andromeda’s slim fingers wind in there too. It’s a sleepy, comfortable silence, until Riley mumbles: “Although…I wouldn’t kick Morty out of bed.”


End file.
